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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24269662">These Boots Aren't Made For Walking</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenybirdy/pseuds/teenybirdy'>teenybirdy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Devil Wears Prada (2006)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Don't copy to another site, Drabble, F/F, Fashion &amp; Couture, Fashion Disaster, Gen, Humor, clueless</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:49:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>526</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24269662</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenybirdy/pseuds/teenybirdy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy proves her time at Runway hasn't really changed her from the initial fashion disaster she was, but perhaps Miranda can help with that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miranda Priestly &amp; Andrea Sachs, Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>These Boots Aren't Made For Walking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is just a quick drabble that came from a meme shared by Kirstan on the Facebook MirAndy Page.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Miranda stepped into her office, knowing Andrea was following her as she scribbled down her rapid-fire instructions with ease.</p><p>Sitting down at her desk, she spun in her chair and started her usual perusal of her beautiful assistant. Her eyes devoured the brunette from head to toe every morning, she just couldn't help it.</p><p>Andrea's beaming smile greeted her from between the straightened chocolate tresses framing her face as her eyes moved down, hovering a beat too long over the delicious curve of her breasts, encased in a jade green silk Versace blouse, over the shortest scrap of skirt known to man, over legs that ended in the most hideous footwear ever devised by man. She would find the designer and ensure their career lay in ruins at their feet.</p><p>Snapping her eyes back up, her lips pursed in disgust. "Andrea, what are those things on your feet?"</p><p>Andrea's eyes twinkled with mischief and her smile widened further if that was possible. "Aren't they great. They're boots, that look like feet."</p><p>"They are monstrous, Andrea." Miranda declared firmly. "Take them off." She looked over Andrea's shoulder and called out to Emily hovering in the outer office. "Go to the closet and bring back the knee-high Gucci boots in a size 9. That's all." She listened as Emily clattered away before turning back to the brunette. "Do not make me take those hideous things off forcibly."</p><p>"But I - I like them, Miranda," Andrea whispered. "I think they're fun."</p><p>"Go sit." Miranda waved her hand towards the couch and when Andrea failed to move, she stood and entered her personal space until she backed up and fell against the couch. She heard the younger woman's breath catch as she knelt at her leather-clad feet. She shuddered as her fingers unlaced the boots and she pulled them off, tempted to throw them away from her in disgust. Instead, she stood and stepped towards her desk, the boots held gingerly between her thumb and forefinger. Dropping them into the bin beside her desk she scowled. "Good riddance." She muttered darkly. Looking across at Andrea, she smirked at her look of incredulity. "I thought you had learned some important things in your time here, darling." Miranda shook her head and grinned ruefully. "But contrary to what Nancy Sinatra once proclaimed, these boots are not made for walking..." She paused for effect. "...or anything else."</p><p>"Well there's only one solution for that then," Andrea stated, walking towards her on bare feet before coming to a standstill in front of her. Miranda raised an eyebrow in query, waiting for her to continue. "You'll simply have to dress me in the mornings."</p><p>Miranda licked her lips, finding her mouth had turned dry at the thought of the brunette being there with her in the mornings, which led her into thoughts of her being there at night. Glancing up into her assistant's eyes, she saw warmth and affection highlighted in the pools of chocolate. Nodding once to herself, she grasped the younger woman's hand and squeezed it lightly before offering a small smile. "Acceptable."</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>fin</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>And just incase you wanted to see the monstrous boots...</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
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